Welcome Back To Hell
by ss.sasusaku
Summary: An innocent question leads to a less innocent field trip, bringing two killers back to the day they first met. Implied (future) Zackray.


The sun rose on an early Monday morning much like any other. Rachel Gardner woke up in the hospital bed that had become oh-so painfully familiar. She stared at the white ceiling, uncertain if she even wanted to get up. The answer turned out to be no, but much to her dismay, her therapist came in and opened the blinds, letting the sunshine flow into the bare room. The young blonde sat up, her long hair tumbling down in front of her face.

"Good morning Rachel, how do you feel today?" The woman asked. Rachel shrugged, unsure how to properly respond. _Numb? Lifeless? Empty inside? _The phrases all crossed her mind one after the other, though she had no desire to express any emotions towards her therapist. She stood up and walked to the wardrobe, pulling a simple white tee shirt and gray shorts on her body.

"Well Rachel, today's a big day for you." Rachel furrowed an eyebrow.

"It is? How?" Her therapist lead her out of the room and down the hallway she'd already walked hundreds of times and into a small room with a wooden table and 2 matching chairs. Rachel sat at one and watched as her doctor poured the same milk and cereal into the same bowl she'd had since she arrived at the institute.

"Today you'll be returning to school. Your other psychiatrists and I believe it's about time that you return to more of a typical day-to-day life. You'll go to class each day and return here afterwards."

"Okay then." She ate the cereal in the usual silence as she did every day. Once she finished she washed the dishes and returned to her bedroom to get dressed. She pulled her usual black and white stripped stop, white cardigan and black shorts. Her psychologist drove her through town to the school she'd been enrolled in before the events of the last several months took place, and let her out by the sidewalk. She walked into the building, feeling dozens of eyes fall onto her. Ignoring them, she entered the main office and was greeted by the principle.

"Welcome back, Rachel. If you need time to adjust back into-"

"No thank you. Can I get my schedule?" He handed her a half-sheet of paper before she left the office. Reading her schedule, she walked down the hall and entered her first classroom. Her teacher stopped talking, turning away from his writing on the board. She waited in the doorway, her face blank.

"Rachel? Come in, have a seat." She sat in a desk in the middle of the room, letting her black purse drop to the floor between her feet. She opened a notebook and grabbed a pencil.

"We'll start by reading chapters 3 to 6." He wrote the page numbers on the board along with a list of questions to answer afterwards. Rachel was given a book by the student sitting in the desk in front of her. But before she could begin her assignment, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey Rachel! Is it really true you were taken to a murder house?" She sighed, listening to more questions from prying kids.

"Is it true you know Isaac Foster?"

"Did he try to kill you?"

"How did you get out?" Rachel sighed, putting the book down. There was no way she'd get through her assignment with the other kids berating her. The girl turned in her chair to face a group of kids that had been asking the most questions, waiting for them to stop asking so many questions. Unfortunately, they didn't stop. She listened to her new classmates discuss what they thought happened in the house, what they claimed they would do in those situations. Rachel couldn't help but finding it irritating. Sure, they could all talk about how they'd do this or they'd do that but they'd probably all have ended up dead. The thought didn't particularly bother her though. She walked through the halls to each and every one of her classes, listening to everyone talk about the news. The same conversations, over and over and over again. By the last bell she'd been completely pissed off. She got back into the car with her doctor and returned to the institution. She sat at her desk with a notebook open in front of her and a sheet with questions on it to begin her homework.

It was easy enough work. She got through it in just over an hour.

She continued onward through school the next several days, keeping her head down and not answering anyone's questions. That is, until she arrived into her fourth period science class. Her teacher began discussing psychology and different mental disorders. Rachel wrote them all down in her notebook. The students questions quickly lead back to the murder house.

"Let's go see it!" One boy shouted. Rachel looked over to him. All the other kids cheered in agreement, even the teacher, who was prone to curiosity as well. At least, that was the rumor that had been floating around. It took a couple weeks, but eventually the police allowed her class to take a tour with police escort.

"I'll see if we can go take a tour then." Her teacher said. Rachel didn't respond. She instead went along with what the other kids wanted, not telling her doctors she intended to return to the house. She walked up to join them waiting for the bus.

"Sir, if we're going to return there, then I want Zack to come too... He was a victim too." Everyone shut up. "He deserves to be here too." She stared at the group of police with hard eyes. "He won't hurt anyone." The police looked at one another, sharing a couple nods. The truth was, there was something about the words she spoke and the passion behind her eyes that convinced them to oblige. It went against their training, it went against the law they were bound to uphold. Yet as they looked into this young girl's brilliant blue eyes with their terrifying intensity on such a blank canvas, they caved. The students sat around the courtyard while 3 of the 4 cops returned to the prison and brought Zack back. He was handcuffed with a policeman on either side of him. Rachel's eyes lit up and she ran to him.

"Zack... I'm so glad to see you again." She didn't smile, she didn't look too happy. A warm smile came across his face.

"Good to see you too, Ray." The students and teachers and police all climbed into the bus. Ray followed Zack and sat on the seat besides him. The ride was loud, with all the kids talking and shouting to each other. Rachel easily tuned it all out. Going back, she never imagined she'd return.

"I can't believe we're being dragged back to this hellhole."

"My class has been discussing psychological trauma and the following results." Zack raised an eyebrow at her, clearly confused. Rachel couldn't keep a small smile off her face.

"What makes a murderer want to murder."

"_Oh._ So what, they're gonna try and evaluate me? I'll have to-" Rachel's hand flew over Zack's mouth.

"Shh.. don't say it." The rest of the bus ride the two stayed in complete, blissful silence until the bus came to a halt. They both stared at one another's hands, their thighs brushing against each others with each bump or turn. The bus slowed to a stop outside a damaged brick building, though it was still clearly standing. Ray leaned over Zack's lap to peer up at the building, not noticing her teacher and the police waving everyone off.

"Foster, let's go." A voice commanded. Ray's head whipped around to see a broad-shouldered, muscular man with a receding hairline in front of her. This man, she concluded from the way his arms crossed and his scowling expression, not to mention the way the other officer stood away from them, told her this man was in charge. His gaze told her too, that he would be watching Zack, closely.

What was that feeling, in her chest? She didn't like it, the way this man looked at Zack made her chest feel tight and made her tense. She ignored it. Instead, she slid out of the seat. Zack followed after her. Still handcuffed, he walked closely behind her off the bus.

"All right, here we are! Everyone take a buddy. We're all staying together on this little tour." Her teacher announced. The police hovered behind them, she felt their eyes unwavering from Zack's back. She chose to stay by Zack's side.

"Oi! If we're doing this, we can't go in that way." He called out. Just about everyone jumped at Zack's outburst.

"Just what do you mean?" One boy asked, hesitant to speak.

"You gotta start at the bottom." He lifted his hands, pointing at the front door. "That's not where we started."

"He's right!" Ray exclaimed, figuring there must be a way in directly to the basement where she'd woken up. She ran off from the crowd, turning the corner of the burnt out building.

"Ray?" Zack slowly began following her, the police, teacher, and students following closely as well. Coming up from the concrete steps that lead to an outer door, she stopped.

"In here." She said. With her words, the students, in pairs, followed their teacher inside. Once almost alone, Ray looked at Zack. Zack looked at Ray.

"Think you can do this, Ray?" He asked. As she looked into his mismatched, dilated eyes, she felt the tension in her chest relax.

"Definitely."


End file.
